A/N: Wow, I'm sorry I've been MIA for the past few months. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait. Happy Holidays! I've just realized my update timings are really bad, with the holidays approaching it would be the perfect time for the Christmas themed chapter. Unfortunately you will have to wait a little longer for that one, but it is definitely worth it and one of my favourite parts!
Disclaimer: All rights to J.K. Rowling for creating the magical world of Harry Potter.
Chapter Eight – Reclaiming Their Name
Hermione was spinning quite quickly and was beginning to get dizzy. She felt herself falling forward suddenly and stumbled out of the fireplace and into the bustling atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Hermione nervously joined the queue for the lifts. She knew she was lucky with her appointment. She'd heard some of the terrible positions other Muggleborns had received, cleaning cages at Eeylops Owl Emporium, or mopping up spills at the Apothecary.
Hermione realized at once her position was chosen specifically because of her looming marriage to Malfoy. Her new concern was that she was going to be working under a Death Eater, which seemed likely. Hermione entered the lift and waited until they reached level B2 before exiting.
She followed the directions set out in her letter and found the office quickly. It was located in a little corridor, facing into the atrium. She knocked on the large oak door and was greeted a moment by a petite witch with short, wavy brown hair. She smiled at Hermione, and Hermione suspected she was not a Death Eater, but withheld judgement until she knew more.
"I'm Patricia Marchbanks," she said, shaking Hermione's hand. "You must be Hermione." Hermione confirmed this. "I've heard excellent things about you, and I look forward to working with you. Unfortunately this position is mostly clerical. You will be required to do quite a bit of filing of old case transcripts. That's where you will be starting later today. Later on I might have you assist me on acquiring data for current cases as the Wizengamot requires them."
"But before you start any work here," Patricia continued, "a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will be taking you on a tour of the rest of the premises." As she said this there was a knock at the door and Yaxley entered. Hermione tried not to show her surprise, and she saw her new boss's face darken.
"Can I help you Mister Yaxley," she said formally.
"I believe you were informed that Miss Granger would be taken on an official Ministry tour?" He questioned her disdainfully. Hermione liked her more immediately. If Yaxley had something against her, she was probably a decent human being.
"Yes," she replied brusquely, "and I was told one of the junior secretaries would be accompanying her."
"There has been a change in plans," Yaxley said, "I will be taking her. I trust you have no objections?" He sneered at her, and she returned to her desk, leaving Hermione to follow him out of the office.
Naturally the first stop on the tour was the Auror's office, where posters of Harry and Ron were plastered over several walls. Hermione also noticed a variety of other boys close to her age, who must have also fled from the marriage law.
"We are taking the violations of the Matched Matrimony Law very seriously," Yaxley said. "Most of the violators have already been captured and are awaiting trial in Azkaban." He pointed to the wall where Harry and Ron's posters were, along with some others, "we have given our dedicated Aurors extended powers in order to deal with those still evading the law." He glanced at Harry's picture pointedly, and then smiled viciously at her.
Yaxley seemed only inclined to show Hermione the more unpleasant aspects of the Ministry. After the Auror's officer, he took her to the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Apart from the ghastly hybrid creatures poking out of cages, Hermione was disturbed by a tiny cell at the back of the room housing twenty house elves.
"We are in the process of purchasing a house elf correction centre, but for now we are using this premises to educate elves who do not perform to their master's approval," Yaxley said. They looked into the room next to the cell, where a wizard was observing an elf as it ironed the skin beneath its finger nails.
Hermione almost cried out, but restrained herself when she found Yaxley watching her closely. Hermione bit her lip and composed herself. She needed to stop being herself and start being a spy. The Death Eaters needed to believe that she was indifferent to what they were doing if they were ever going to trust her. After that, the tour was a breeze. Hermione took a clinical perspective of everything she saw, and made mental notes of what to report to Moody.
Hermione was relieved when she returned to Patricia's office a little while later. Patricia was still at her desk when Hermione arrived. "How was the tour?" She asked, looking at Hermione carefully.
"It was very informative," Hermione said vaguely, deciding it was best not to say too much. In reality, she knew the tour's purpose was to intimidate her, and it was almost successful.
"There are some forms regarding your internship that need to be filled out," she said, pointing to a stack of parchment on a small spindly table overlooking the window. "You'll have to use that old table unfortunately, but I'm usually away from my desk so in future you can use it instead." Hermione accepted the offer graciously, and sat down by the rickety table. She was careful not to press too much weight on it as she wrote, for fear that it would collapse under her.
The form, unsurprisingly, reflected the anti-Muggleborn sentiments the Ministry was currently adopting. It asked several questions about how the candidate's heritage prepared them for their position. After several questions of this sort Hermione got fed up. The last question asked why she thought she had been placed in her position. She dipped her quill into her ink bottle and scribbled angrily: I believe I was given this position to prove that blood status does not determine one's social standing or potential. She wrote this with such vengeance that she almost poke a hole through the parchment.
"Are you all finished with those forms Hermione?" Patricia asked as Hermione approached her desk again.
"Yes, Miss Marchbanks," Hermione said. "Do you need any assistance with what you are working on now, or would you like me to start the filing you mentioned earlier?"
"I think we'll start with the filing today," she said; "magical filing is a little different than Muggle filing." Clearly she had already been informed about Hermione's blood status. Even with that warning Hermione was surprised when they reached the storage room. They took a small winding staircase down a floor that led directly to a large, windowless room, filled with parchment. The room pulsed with activity and pieces of parchment floated in isles along the room. Hermione guessed it was almost as large as the Great Hall, but it felt much more claustrophobic with its low ceilings and various nooks and crannies.
"These are the transcripts from the Wizengamot for the past week," Patricia said, gesturing to a large stack of boxes next to the stairs. "Each one is encrypted with a code which you will have to decipher in order to file it properly."
"Are the transcripts filed chronologically or alphabetically?" Hermione asked.
"Both," Patricia smiled at Hermione's slightly confused expression, but it vanished almost immediately.
"You use a layered system!" Hermione realized excitedly. "Was it set up using a text detection charm? Have you considered extending the charm to include the subject matter of the case as well?" Hermione was practically bouncing on her feet, at the prospect of getting to work with such complex charms.
"No, actually we haven't," Patricia said thoughtfully "if you have time during your internship feel free to experiment with that. Filing according to the case category would make research much less timely. I can't believe we never thought of that." Patricia murmured as she returned to her office. Hermione was almost beaming, and planned to try her hand at text detection charms as soon as she could.
Hermione found the filing much less menial than she expected. One summer she helped file client information for her parents and it was extremely dull. Hermione moved through the transcripts efficiently, and only had to ask Patricia for help once when she came to a transcript of a classified case. These cases were stored in a vault at the back of the room and each had a unique security code consisting of four runes that were hidden in the document itself. Hermione was tucked in a corner working on one of these transcripts when she overheard voices nearby.
One of the voices was strangely familiar, so Hermione approached cautiously. When she saw the figures of two large men, she paused and squeezed herself between two of the vaults, so she could listen undetected. The voice she recognized belonged to Crabbe Sr., only Hermione had confused him for his son. The other man was talking now, and he was also clearly a Death Eater. He had a broad build, a brute face, and the overall appearance of a thug. Just the sight of him was intimidating.
"Lucius is doing some business at Gringotts today," the thug-like man said with a sneer, and Crabbe snickered clearly understanding more than Hermione. "I hear he brought his worthless boy with him."
"Really?" said Crabbe, "He is a fool to risk such a vital assignment. Now if it were my son..." He trailed off sulkily, but his companion interrupted.
"With or without the boy, I don't expect him to succeed."
Draco stared at the towering form of Gringotts. He recalled the first time his father brought him here when he was a young boy. It was his reward for being able to recite their entire bloodline by heart. Just like then, Draco was in awe of the building and its prominent architecture. Only now Draco's heart raced with fear instead of excitement.
Draco looked at his father hesitantly. They were standing on the outskirts of Diagon Alley, and it was completely deserted. Lucius looked worse for wear, even though he was wearing his best robes. Draco never commented on how Azkaban had changed him, and not only in appearance. Draco remembered the fear his father used to inspire, and though he was still capable of it he never did. He seemed to be regretting things, but was too afraid to say so. Draco could understand that better than anyone. After his sixth year he was filled with fear too. And regrets.
"Before we go in Draco," Lucius said clasping his shoulder, "I want you to know that I'm not proud of what I've done. I know this is not the future you or your mother wanted, but this is our only hope of returning the Malfoy name to its former glory."
"And what are the odds of living to see that happen?" Draco asked resentfully. He did not care about the Malfoy name, like his father did. He just wanted to live past his next birthday.
"If we fail, the Dark Lord will kill us both," was Lucius's reply, "and your mother too if she does not flee in time."
"Where will she go?" Draco asked, for his mother's safety was the only thing he valued more than his own life.
"To France," he said, "the Dark Lord has not gained power there, so she will be safe temporarily."
"And what happens if we succeed?" Draco asked doubtfully.
"All we need to do is get the head goblin, Ragnuk, to agree to sign over control of the bank," Lucius said simply, Draco snorted, but sobered immediately at the look on his father's face.
"And how do you propose we do that?" He asked.
"We have to trick him," Lucius said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And if we do the goblins may get violent. They are fiercely protective of Gringotts; they believe that it is their birthright." Draco shuddered recalling the many goblin rebellions he studied in A History of Magic. So that was the catch, even in the off chance that they succeeded and the Dark Lord got power over Gringotts, they would probably be killed in the aftermath. "If they don't revolt, we live."
"Good to know," Draco said dryly, "at least we're prepared for our demise." Lucius almost smiled.
"Always so dramatic," he replied, "I think we let you spend too much time with Severus." Draco smiled at his father, the first true one to pass between them in a very long time. They approached Gringotts with purpose, only pausing at the entrance to be checked by the security goblins. As they were searched Draco's eyes wandered to a sign on the door he never paid any attention to before.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
'Of what awaits the sin of greed
'For those who take, but do not earn,
'Must pay most dearly in their turn.
'So if you seek beneath our floors
'A treasure that was never yours,
'Thief, you have been warned, beware
'Of finding more than treasure there.
It made Draco apprehensive, he was not sure why. They did not want to steal from Gingotts (he already owned a large portion of its contents). They just needed control over it. Draco caught his father's eye, who was reading the sign as well for what seemed like the first time. Paler than before they entered the great marble hall and approached the office of the head goblin.
Draco's only thought on entering was that they would need a miracle for their plan to work, and miracles were not granted to mindless murderers. Little did Draco know that miracles work in mysterious ways.
Hermione entered the fireplace more cheerful and relieved than when she arrived. Patricia was surprisingly nice, and the tour could have been much worse. Fuelled by her success with the detection charms in the filing room Hermione was in a strangely good mood. The conversation she heard was floating somewhere in the back of her mind, unnoticed by her for the moment.
On her way back to the Gryffindor common room Hermione bumped into Neville who, judging by the soot on his robes, had also just returned. When he turned around, Hermione was surprised to see that his face was pale and gaunt. His once round cheeks were hollowed slightly, and his eyes looked dark and lifeless.
"What happened, Neville?" She asked catching up to him, and noticing a large bar of Honeydukes chocolate in his hand.
"I just got back from my placement," he said.
"But you're a pureblood!" Hermione exclaimed, "you're placement should have been good."
"Well, it was supposed to be," Neville said grimacing slightly. "They placed me with the Ministry's security wizards. But they had to transfer me, because I, uh, blew up some important stuff they were working on. Accidently of course," he added the corners of his lips lifting.
"Neville! That was really dangerous, you could have been hurt," Hermione said, trying not to think of the other possible consequences. And trying not to think of a time long ago when she was more concerned with being expelled than getting hurt. Neville's grin widened.
"Well, luckily I didn't get hurt then," Neville said, and added, "or when I spilt some bulgeye potion at my second placement, or when the next office they assigned me to mysteriously caught fire. Or-"
"I get the picture," Hermione said in shock and some amusement. "But how did you end up looking like this. I suspect you've been around dementors, given the chocolate and the particular shade of grey around your eyes."
"After the Billywig incident," he said, and Hermione did not even want to ask about that, they decided it would be 'beneficial' for me to see the inner workings of Azkaban." The smile fell off Neville's face here. "It's horrible there. I've heard stories, but you cannot even begin to imagine what it's like without actually being there." Neville shuddered, and continued "they had me bringing meals to the prisoners. You should have seen the people they had locked up. I thought I saw Madam Malkins' assistant, from the robes shop on Diagon Alley, but she looked so frail and ragged that I couldn't be sure."
They entered the common room, Neville still describing the horrors of Azkaban. Hermione found herself both disturbed and oddly fascinated. Azkaban was possibly the most interesting magical landmark. She had read that its ability to suck happiness out of people was not only caused by the dementors. Hermione made a point to research it during her third year, after being captivated by Sirius's escape.
Neville stopped short, and Hermione looked to see what had drawn his attention. Dean Thomas was huddled in the corner of the room surrounded by a group of seventh and sixth years. Hermione and Neville approached the group, and on closer inspection saw that Dean was covered in grime and bruises. The others were urging him to say what happened, and after drinking a glass of water brought down from the girl's dormitory by Lavender, he agreed.
"My letter said my placement was at Gringotts," he began, "and I knew a couple of purebloods had been placed there too, so I thought I got lucky, maybe they overlooked me by accident." He shook his head angrily. "Well the purebloods got to work above ground, managing some of the goblins."
"The goblins must have been mad about that," interrupted a sixth year boy Hermione recognized from the first DA meeting.
"That wasn't even the worst of it," Dean said, and continued his story from where he left off. "They had me and the others working below ground with the goblins. It wasn't too bad. I saw the goblins get nasty a couple of times, but if you kept to yourself they'd leave you alone. Things went bad 'round the afternoon. The goblins started getting temperamental. Then we all started hearing the rumours that a patrol of Death Eaters was up above talking to the head goblin. We all knew trouble was coming, but we figured we were safest below the vaults anyway." Some of the others looked confused at this, but as a Muggleborn, Hermione knew the greatest danger was not the goblins.
"A little while later, some of the goblins were called up for a meeting with the head goblin," Dean said. "And that's when everything changed. They came back real angry and started to talk to the others. The one doing all the talking kept switching into Gobbledegook, but we caught some of it. Apparently, the head goblin signed over all control of Gingotts. The goblins were not happy about that. They started grabbing pick axes, and some took swords from the older vaults, and I thought there was going to be a rebellion, like the ones Binns is always on about."
"Was there?" the same sixth year boy asked eagerly. "Did they get any of the Death Eaters."
"No, they were gone by then," Dean answered. "I don't know what the other goblins told them, but they settled down a bit."
"They must 'ave promised 'em something real valuable," Seamus said. "Goblins are greedy little buggers. It's not surprising that they are working with You-Know-Who."
"They must have," Dean said, "because the goblins got back to work, but they were after our skin after that. They searched all our pockets before we left, and said we had to turn in our wands next time before we come down."
"So the Death Eaters just got away?" Parvati asked.
"I'm guessing so," Dean said, "It doesn't sound like that many were actually there. The only thing I heard after was that Malfoy was involved." Hermione started at this, and bolted out the portrait hole, leaving quite a few curious glances behind her, and a couple of suspicious looks too.
Once out of the common room, Hermione was not sure where to go. She did not know where Malfoy hung out. She decided her best bet was the Slytherin common room, so she headed there. She'd deal with the password issue when she got there. Luckily, Hermione had barely reached the dungeons when she saw a white-blonde head disappear around the corner. He was alone, so she chased after him.
"Malfoy," she called out. He stopped a little further down the corridor, stopping to look at her in surprise. "What happened today?" She asked once she caught up with him. She suspected the story Dean told was true, given the smirk plastered on his face, but she wanted to hear his account anyway.
"Well many things happened today Granger, you'll have to be more specific," he said. Hermione decided not to snap at him, because she could tell by his expression that he was not going to pass up this opportunity to brag.
"I heard your father was at Gringotts today," Hermione said, "I'm assuming you know something about it."
"I was there too," he said, angry that his presence was overlooked by her, but her look of surprise soothed his ego. "Alright I'll tell you, only because you'll badger me to death if I don't. The Dark Lord decided that it was unsightly for wizards to trust their possessions in the hands of goblins. He said they were greedy, filthy, sub-beings that could not be trusted. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure he said that about Muggles too."
"That's ridiculous," Hermione said, ignoring his comment about Muggles. "Goblins have owned Gringotts since its founding, except for a short period in the 1860s when the Ministry took over. Is that what he's doing now? Getting the Ministry to control it?"
"Not quite," Draco said, after absorbing her annoying burst of information, "he doesn't like to put all his eggs in one basket, so to speak. He wanted Death Eaters to have sole control."
"But that's not possible," she said, "You can't transfer the ownership of Gringotts to a non-government organization. It can only be controlled by a governing body or by an individual if it is transferred to private ownership."
"Yes, we realized that," Draco said, "but the Dark Lord wanted more security over the agreement than the Ministry could offer, so he insisted that it went under individual ownership."
"But under whose name?" Hermione asked, aware that she was interrupting him again. "He would not have put it under his own. From what I have gathered about the First Wizarding War he likes to have a certain level of anonymity." He looked only mildly surprised that she knew this.
"You're right, of course," he said grudgingly. Hermione almost laughed aloud, Ron could never bear it to tell her when she was right. Malfoy on the other hand, acted as though it was inevitable, even if it did annoy him.
"So whose name is it under?" Hermione asked, running through a list of reputable Death Eaters in her mind. She wondered if it was Yaxley. He seemed to be doing quite well at the moment, and she knew he had an engagement outside of the Ministry after her tour. She had convinced herself so thoroughly that this was the case that she was flabbergasted by his next words.
"Mine," Draco said, pausing for effect. "And my father's," he added somewhat reluctantly. "It was signed over to the Malfoy estate. My father and I co-signed the agreement," he explained to her. For once she was silent, too surprised to interrupt. Draco was concerned for a moment that he would have to take her to the hospital wing.
"But how did you manage it?" She asked, seeming to become herself again. "Goblins are notoriously protective of Gringotts, and you can't bewitch them into signing or else the contract won't be valid."
Hermione was impressed, getting the goblins to sign away ownership of Gringotts was no small feat. Her admiration must have shown on her face, because a genuine smile lit Draco's face. His reaction made Hermione wonder if he ever did receive praise, she could not imagine either of his parents being particularly affectionate.
"We used good old fashioned trickery," Draco said, interrupting Hermione's train of thought. "Once the head goblin realized what he signed he was furious. So we promised the usual cut of treasure from the Dark Lord's enemies. That seemed to appease him, especially when we offered him some extra perks. We had to drop a hint about the possibility of a goblin slaughtering, and then he seemed to come around fully."
"That's horrible!" Hermione said.
"Not really, and we were bluffing," Draco said. "They were about to kill us, so I told them if we did not return promptly the Dark Lord would come himself. They clearly did not realize that You-Know-Who didn't care whether we died or not, so they backed off."
Hermione was glad to know he was bluffing. Even with all the bad things she knew about him she still firmly believed that there was good in him under all that poor breeding. Her brain returned to the subject of goblin slaughterings and she said aloud, "Ron was right, I should have started S.P.U.G."
"Started what?" Draco asked, his expression annoyed, "Actually if the weasel said it, it was probably stupid."
"He was making fun of me for starting the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, so he suggested I start the Society for Protection of Ugly Goblins," she explained.
"I was right, it was stupid," he said, "and I have better things to do than stand around here talking about Weasley." He headed up the staircase and out of sight, and Hermione was left with the strangest feeling that he was angry that she brought up Ron. She could not understand why. But talking about Ron led to a train of thoughts Hermione was not ready to face yet. So, feeling despondent, she returned to the gossip in the Gryffindor common room.
Coming up on Till Death Do Us Part:
She jerked her head in a noncommittal motion, playing along because being pressed into Malfoy's side was making her feel much safer than she had a moment ago. Zabini looked ready to start a fight, and Malfoy looked ready to oblige him, but at that moment footsteps sounded on the stairs again. Malfoy withdrew his arm just as their classmates began to arrive.
A/N: More Dramione action as promised!